# Result number

Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.

Character Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet, the character name is "Poet."

Line Shows where the line falls within the work.

The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not restart for each scene.

Text The line's full text, with keywords highlighted within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.

1

Love's Labour's Lost
[II, 1]

Princess of France

713

It was well done of you to take him at his word.

2

Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1]

Costard

917

When would you have it done, sir?

3

Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1]

Costard

921

I shall know, sir, when I have done it.

4

Love's Labour's Lost
[III, 1]

Biron

924

It must be done this afternoon.
Hark, slave, it is but this:
The princess comes to hunt here in the park,
And in her train there is a gentle lady;
When tongues speak sweetly, then they name her name,
And Rosaline they call her: ask for her;
And to her white hand see thou do commend
This seal'd-up counsel. There's thy guerdon; go.

5

Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 2]

Sir Nathaniel

1142

Very reverend sport, truly; and done in the testimony
of a good conscience.

6

Love's Labour's Lost
[IV, 2]

Sir Nathaniel

1296

Sir, you have done this in the fear of God, very
religiously; and, as a certain father saith,—

7

Love's Labour's Lost
[V, 1]

Moth

1862

An excellent device! so, if any of the audience
hiss, you may cry 'Well done, Hercules! now thou
crushest the snake!' that is the way to make an
offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it.

8

Love's Labour's Lost
[V, 2]

Biron

2412

Lo, he is tilting straight! Peace! I have done.
[Enter COSTARD]
Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray.

9

Love's Labour's Lost
[V, 2]

Costard

2489

It is, 'Great,' sir:—
Pompey surnamed the Great;
That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make
my foe to sweat:
And travelling along this coast, I here am come by chance,
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of France,
If your ladyship would say, 'Thanks, Pompey,' I had done.